Where do I go next?

Yesterday was my 47th birthday, which makes today the last day of November, the month that so many use to express their thankfulness. My eldest child posted a happy birthday message on my Facebook wall, along with a picture that is around 16 or 17 years old. I didn't even know it existed. As one of the coaches of her T-ball team, I was coaching at first base. She obviously has successfully hit the ball and stands securely at first base, looking for the next base to run to and I am pointing it out to her. Being Bethany's ball coach for around nine years was one of the funnest things in my life. It gave me a lot of time with her and it gave me a tremendous thought today.

If you are a daddy, I hope you feel the same way about it as I do. Personally, I think "Daddy" is the about the greatest title a man can hold. I have savored every minute of it. Of course, now it's usually "Dad" and I've added a couple young men to the list of individuals that call me such, but it's still great. Daddy and coach are pretty similar if you take the title seriously. For instance, take this picture...

As I stood at first base, Bethany stood at "home" with her first goal in mind, get to first base. When she reached first, although it isn't evident in this picture, I am sure there was a lot of congratulating and celebrating. By the way, there's also a big bunch of pride in the both of us once that goal is reached. I can almost hear the question, " Daddy, where do I go next?". Ergo, the picture of me pointing to second base, the next goal. Since this is T-ball we are talking about, I am sure that once her eyes were fixed on that goal and the first base coach sent her, she achieved that next goal.

From her position at "home", I have had the ultimate privilege to see goals placed before her, either by her or by me, and watched her successfully reach them. I have congratulated and celebrated so many times, I could not count them. I have also had innumerable opportunities to stand (or squat) beside her and answer the question, "Daddy, where do I go next?" and point her in the right direction and send her off. I have been blessed to be a part of every major decision that she has made. I do not take that for granted. It has been a highlight of my life.

Well, my little T-baller grew up and now she is playing some "major league" life. Again, after much coaching, she got up to bat...this time the goal wasn't as clear, but it became clear when she met him. With Mom and Dad's prayers and God's help, she reached that goal too. She's standing securely on first base, engaged to a great young man, and I'm still standing right there with her...and now we're both looking at "what's next". On March 18, I'm going to walk her down the aisle, but before I do, perhaps I'll stop for a moment and just for old times sake, whether she asks or not, and I'll just point to what (or rather, who) is next before I send her off. It'll probably be all that I can do while I cry tears of love, congratulations, and celebration. And as she rounds that next base, her eyes will fix on the next man, waiting to stand with her, set new goals, and celebrate all of her successes.

But hey, I'm still on the team, so I'll celebrate them too. This November, I am so thankful for the blessing of fatherhood and the children that made it a reality. If I may offer advice...take the title seriously, teach and direct accordingly, celebrate the successes, and always, always be there for the next, "Daddy, where do I go next?"